Rediscovering Alice
by Fireshine
Summary: Alice is consumed by old dreams from her childhood, can one suspicious looking boy change that and bring her back to life and love?


**A/N:- ok, i know its been a long time since i've updated _anything_ on fanfic... but _this_ is the reason, its given me a bit of a headache and i hope that my efforts to power through were not in vain. **

**and i've seen loads of people put quotes at the beginning of chapters and that, i just wanted to try**** it. =] xx**

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><p><em>Love is all around you. Yeah.<br>Love is knockin' outside your door.  
>Waitin' for you, is this love made just for two<br>Keep an open heart and you'll find love again, I know. _

– _**'Love Song' by Tesla**_

**Rediscovering Alice**

There was a house. It was a very grand house; one that was more than likely to be called a stately home or a manor by any who saw it – rather that just a house.

Surrounding this house, were acres of green fields and pastures, sprawled out leisurely as far as the eye could see; but closer, there were gardens – expertly and carefully managed gardens that suggested that the only person who regularly used the garden was the gardener – and closer still, there was a rather grand and ornate patio with stairs leading down to the lawn below. On this patio was where a middle aged woman sat, reading from a small book perched in the hand that was resting on her lace covered knees. Her hair was pulled back with excruciating neatness – and with many a hairpin – into a bun on the nape of her neck. She was a well-to-do woman, and as such, she would not be caught dead with out a full length dress, complete with corset, stockings and other – to _her_ – necessary undergarments. Despite the heat, she insisted on wearing this many layers. It was now painfully clear to all that the widow had come to be almost completely reliant on appearances and keeping her place in society.

That and the small fortune that her late husband had left for her; but that was gradually running out, her style of living requiring more than just the interest gained from the sum she had.

The house mentioned earlier, which – _also mentioned earlier_ – was not really a house, but more a manner or a stately home, was also left to the woman by her long-dead husband; and now it was steadily and rather rapidly becoming more than the middle-aged widow could handle or afford. The manner went up by three stories, and at the third window from the left – top floor – there sat a girl. She was blonde-haired and blue-eyed and considered to be quite the beauty by most eligible to marry her. However, she paid them all no mind – much to the frustration, and sometimes complete _vexation,_ of both her mother and those who sought her hand. Alice – that was the _girl's_ name, not the _widow's_ – was nineteen and dreaded the prospect of being married off to the highest bidder, just so her mother could keep her hard-earned place in _High Society_.

It was all her mother really had left – apart from Alice herself and the maids and the servants... In other words, Alice's mother was deeply lonely.

Alice sat silently in her bedroom wearing a fashionable – as according to her mother's _closest_ rivals – sky blue dress adorned with many pretty frills and ruffles and bows. However she refused to subject herself to the _excruciating_ torture of a corset and more layers of clothing than purely necessary – despite the constant censure and cajoling from her mother. Besides, it was not likely that anyone would notice just by merely looking at her; and anyway, if anyone _did_ just happen to get close enough to notice her lack of undergarments, then they were certainly _not_ the sort of person that Alice nor her mother would want to impress. Alice was currently – and most other times as well – fed up of reading the stuffy, rigid novel that her mother had recommended for her; and revelled in the rush of rebellion as she moved her waist freely – without the restrictions and perfect _agonies_ of whalebone.

She raised her hand to rest it on her chin and allowed her mind to flow easily to the place that haunted her dreams – waking _and_ sleeping. Ever since Alice had been a but little girl of merely five years old, she had dreamt of a place where these ridiculous social rules her mother adhered to so ardently did not exist, where the miserable old crones and spinsters did not look reproachingly down their crooked noses and knitting needles – that were, of course, the extra-sharp kind that only ladies of the above qualifications seemed to posses – at people and a place where value was ranked by deed rather than fashion or connections or birth or pomposity. It was a place where she had finally made true friends.

Alice had long since stopped paying any attention whatsoever to her true life in the real world – much to the distress of her mother and other close relations, of which there were left. Instead, her mind was, _so much_ more often than not, far off in a place she liked to call Wonderland; it was considered a small miracle if anyone could garner her attention for any measure of time longer than courtesy absolutely demanded. It was this inattentiveness that led to the treacherous thought: '_perhaps it would not be so bad – marrying someone... I would hardly have the presence of mind to notice him much anyway..._'

Her mind returned to Wonderland, not used to being in the present for so long. She could remember the white rabbit, the march hare and the Hatter, she smiled fondly at the memories. Eventually Alice could no longer feel her leg, so she sat up to change her position and decided she would draw her friends. She drew the white rabbit and the caterpillar first, then moved onto the dodo and the march hare, before drawing Hatter. He was one of the only human friends she had made in wonderland, and as she finished her drawing she blinked her bright blue eyes and really took his appearance in afresh and without the veil of childhood clouding her sight for the first time since she was a small girl.

In her memory, he had seemed so much bigger than her, but who _was not_ bigger than a six-year-old? Now, thirteen years later, Hatter looked to be much the same age as her... _and he was quite handsome,_ Alice realised with great surprise. He had wild, flame-red hair, pale skin that almost looked sickly – _almost_ – and bright, _bright_, blue eyes – much like her own. She was almost startled by how charming he looked. Of course, when she was six, her mind did not notice his countenance, it never occurred to her to look for that kind of compatibility, especially since he was so much older than her... but now she was nineteen, her hormone riddled brain automatically took note of how strong his jaw was and how dazzling his smile was... Alice was now no longer looking at him from the point of view of a six year old, but from the point of view of an nineteen-year-old.

A nineteen-year-old in love with the thought of love, romanced by the belief in romance, inspired by the concept of inspiration. She was a nineteen-year-old in love with the idea of feminism and that elusive, _mystical_ notion of free will. She was a nineteen-year-old trapped in her social status... and, in many ways, her own mind.

Alice gazed dissatisfied at the drawing she had just made; dissatisfied because of the imperfections created by her pencil and clumsy fingers – dissatisfied because he was only a drawing... only a figment of her imagination. She sighed and gazed out the window, wondering for the umpteenth time why this world could not be the dream; and why the weird wonderful world that resided in her imagination could not be the reality?

Her mind and her heart had been mercilessly ensnared by the Hatter. Unknowingly, she had drawn her dream-man – literally, _dream_-man – and she realised that no man in the real world could compare to her drawing – however imperfect she had drawn his likeness. Why did the waking world have to be so dull? Why were her dreams so much more colourful and alive? Even the ones that were merely a weak echo of the original dream she had had when she was six were richer in colour and vivacity and diversity than it was possible to perceive in the palpable world surrounding her.

The state of Alice's mind had made her extraordinarily obedient and submissive – as long as she was allowed to let her mind wonder at will. Whether she was inside or out, whether she was in a crowd or only had her mother – or none – for company, it had all ceased to matter long ago; it happened around the time that Alice gave up hope of her life being anything more than the life which her mother had painstakingly planned out for her. The only comfort that Alice could gather form her dream world, was that her imagination was at least several hundred times better than the imaginations of those that surrounded her daily.

A small consolation, if that.

But, since walking to town to get some fruit and other treats from the market required minimal mind power, Alice was not so much opposed to taking up the task, which her mother suggested to her when she had interrupted Alice's musings of wistfulness and hopelessness. After receiving Alice's small, apathetic nod of acquiescence, Alice's mother left her daughter's room wishing sadly to herself that Alice could at least find _some_ joy in the gift of life that she had been given. It felt to her mother that Alice was barely tolerating this word until she could move on to something better.

Faced with the possibility of Alice's eternal sorrow and melancholy, her mother was desperate for something to lift her child's spirits. _Anything_ would do. _Anything_ that worked; anything that could put that smile back on her daughter's face, make her more amiable. Alice's mother was reluctant to admit it, but she would settle for absolutely anything that kept her daughter happy, even if it meant dropping a social class or two. In her opinion, it was better to have her daughter married off to someone who could keep her even if he was of inferior birth; than to suffer Alice becoming a poor spinster after she was dead.

Walking through town, Alice could not help but compare the market, hustling and bustling around her, to the amazements of wonderland. Sure there was brightly coloured fruit and other delicacies adorning a fair amount of the stands, and on the others there was the sparkling jewellery catching the sun and throwing rainbows over every available surface... But the rubies did not seem to glisten as brightly as the dew drops on the talking flowers, the diamonds seemed dully compared to the crown of the queen of hearts, the freshly baked bread did not seem to smell quite as good as those magical cakes that, without fail, altered your shape in some way or other; the children running about were not as endearingly cute and funny as her friends: Tweedledee and Tweedledum; and the entertainers were performing the same old, worn tricks – there were no surprises in this place any more.

No magic. No wonder. No _awe_.

Feeling even more depressed, Alice set about filling her basket with all that the cook had asked from her. Alice had retreated so far into her mind that she took no note of the man who served her and packed her basket – had she done so, she would undoubtedly have noticed the uncanny resemblance between him and her own Hatter. As it was, Alice barely sent a word or a glance in his direction, leaving him puzzled and slightly affronted as, with her feet aiding her glazed eyes to guide her home and her skirts billowing behind her, the reclusive Alice walked away, back to her rather secluded manner.

Her punctual, but still _silent_ return continued to worry her mother deeply.

Eventually, the gardener was no longer affordable and, as a consequence, let go. It was a most reluctant and regretful move by Alice's mother – until the garden had become ever so slightly overgrown and Alice began spending more of her time wandering outside in the garden. It was at these times that Alice no longer looked so forlorn nor so despondent; and her mother certainly was not going to stand in the way of anything that could help cheer her daughter up some. She might have seemed to be only concerned with rank and to often indulge in the vanity of preserving hers – while harbouring a secret, but mild, longing for the achievement of a higher rank – but she was a mother; and even the worst mothers knew when to entirely give up their own desires and put all their efforts into helping their child achieve theirs.

In a last desperate attempt to secure her daughter's happiness, Alice's mother threw a grand party, inviting simply _everyone_ that she recall to have ever known – whether she had a petty, or not so petty, rivalry with them or not – it was rather a strange behaviour on her part, but as Alice became more and more sorrowful, so did her mother become more and more desperate. So, within a week the invitations were sent out – and within another two weeks the replies had been sent back. This was to be the biggest, most eminent and the finest party held in this part of the country – _ever_.

Of course, Alice's mother had got a _little bit_ carried away with the preparations...

With so many people promising their attendance to the party, the house staff recruited the necessary help of the villagers that lived a short way down the road, assuring them that they would be appropriately rewarded according to the help they provided. The villagers were thus less disposed to resent the family who lived here for their wealth and their aloofness, both of which were made painfully noticeable to the villagers daily.

Alice's mother declared that n expense would be spared for the party, ordering mountains of food and oceans of wine and champagne for the enormous volume of guests that were attending from every county up and down the country and from every rank save from those most objectionable. Every eligible man her mother could find or think of was invited Alice's party. Yet Alice's only observation was that it was going to be a most extraordinary unbirthday.

In the days leading up to the party, Alice sat mainly on the patio, where her eyes were able to perceive all the goings on that were happening in her garden. Inattentive as she generally was to her environment, Alice could not be blind or concealed from her mother's designs to secure Alice a proposal of engagement. When Alice could rally herself to form an opinion, she found the prospect far from liable to produce for her any form of enjoyment.

The attention she would be required to pay to the dances and the guests was a dread indeed for her.

Alice sat on the cold, hard stone steps of the patio until her leg fell asleep and she could bear it no longer; rising, Alice began to wander towards a part of the garden she favoured above all other places and where she now spent increasing proportions of her time. Alice's feet walked the remembered path that had, years ago, held all the hope in the world for her. There was no hope now in the way her feet slowly, mechanically trod the overgrown path, no hope in the way her hands lingered and trailed along every surface within easy reach, no hope in the way her eyes stayed resolutely fixed on the middle-distance before her; decidedly _not_ seeking out the famed rabbit-hole.

As Alice came to the space where it _should _have been, she stopped and sat down on the grass that had obstinately and consistently blocked her way to wonderland for all these years.

Alice had no idea how long she had been sat there when an apple rolled into her foot gently. It took a while for the sensation to penetrate the layers of disappointment wrapped protectively around her mind; and in that time a boy crawled hastily through the bushes, his hands repeatedly grabbing for the runaway apple and repeatedly missing it. As soon as the boy spied Alice's foot he recoiled as if she were a horrific disease and scrambled to his feet so he could perform an awkward and rather stiff bow to her.

"Please miss, could I have my apple back?" he asked, looking steadily at the apple by Alice's foot.

Alice reached her hand out apathetically to grab the apple and give it to the small boy who had lost it. He was small and waif-like, his stature not improved by his pale complexion – which only added to the sickly quality he had about him. His ginger hair stuck out wildly from his head and was filled with bits of broken leaves and twigs and although it gave some explanation of his pallor, it did not improve its aesthetics.

"William!" The shout came from just the other side of the bushes; it was deep but worried and Alice guessed the boy before her was called William and the shouter was his father. "_William!_"

She stood up and was about to give the apple back when the father appeared emerging from the bushes through which his son had just crawled. His eyes ran straight over Alice as if without even registering her and settled with annoyed relief on William, who hung his head in waiting for the scolding. The father stepped up and stood just before William putting his hands on his hips and looking expectantly at William.

Alice, for all her ignorance of others, found herself feeling uneasy and – as some would say, _unjustly_ – angry when she was the one who another failed to see. Yet the situation she found herself in was evidently beyond her and she could only watch in astonished muteness as the little boy grew increasingly uncomfortable under the hard, scolding stare of his father and was eventually broken down.

He looked up with wide, shining eyes and began in a wavering voice, "But Johnny, I was _so_ hungry and that apple was right there, it _wanted_ me to eat it! I swear! But then _Peter_ knocked it out of my hand and into the bushes so then I crawled after it and met the pretty lady." At this point four half-curious eyes swivelled and quickly fixed on Alice before darting to the apple she held guiltily in her hand. Yet still, she couldn't find it within herself to move.

'Johnny' straightened up, gave a curt nod with a: "Begging your pardon, ma'am," and swiftly guided William away and back to where the preparations were being made.

Alice clumsily started after them, until she could peer through some leaves to further observe them and – even though the action was _most abominable_ to all well-bred ladies – to eaves drop. Her wonder and horror mingled together violently, changing places every second until she could no longer tell_ any_ of the emotions that she was feeling. The man – Johnny – had looked _exactly_ similar to the Mad Hatter! His hair was just as red – but perhaps a little darker – and almost as wild – although it was shorn much closer to his head – and his skin was a clear white canvass where two brilliant sea-blue eyes and full soft, pink lips rested. His nose, again a mirror of Hatter's – apart from a small bump in the middle – sat dividing two high, smooth cheekbones. His jaw was sharp and defined and completed his visage, so similar to Hatter's.

It was this reflection of her best friend that had filled her once again – and, as most would say, _at last_ – with wonder and hope. It was this which had brought her back to life; but that gift came as a double edged sword in that he was the boy's father; he already had a family, most importantly – and most devastatingly – a _wife_. But that wasn't the worst thing. No, the absolute _worst_ thing was... he already seemed to dislike her.

But Alice, having at last found her soul again, searched for a reason, searched for something that would ease the pain of having finally found the Hatter only to realise she had already lost him. She scrutinised his mannerisms and heard his words – but more importantly, the _meaning_ behind the words – there could be absolutely nothing in looks, she knew full well that appearance did not make the person and it was a conviction that she had held onto firmly throughout the years; and her hopes were once again lifted: he did not talk with a lisp, he did not walk on top of tables instead of going around them and he didn't seem to think butter and jam were the answer to everything.

However despair seemed to gain on her again with the realisation that Johnny spoke with a Scottish accent that surfaced more strongly at some times than others and as he unsuccessfully tried to juggle some apples before presenting the single one he had managed to save to William. Johnny was trying to convince him that _this_ apple wanted William to eat it just as much as the other apple had; and besides, how much could the other apple have wanted to be eaten if it ran away at the first opportunity? Alice closed her eyes and sat back against a tree to commence her self-flagellation. How could she have been so stupid?

She looked disgustedly at her muddy hem and grass-stained skirt, she had been brought back to life – and for what? To endure painful reminders of what she longed for most dearly, but what never could have been? The cruelty was more than what Alice had ever previously experienced – and the result was a humiliating display of bone racking sobs that Alice could barely stifle, as she sat, hunched over with legs spread about in a most unladylike fashion in an unforgivably dirty dress that could, by now, only get dirtier.

"Pray tell me, why are you crying?" the question was sheathed in a gentle voice that seemed to originate from about a foot in front of Alice's face.

Alice opened her eyes. Alice closed her eyes; and then she opened them again. Alas, Johnny was still there, crouched in front of her with a touch of wary concern showing on his face. How could she _possibly_ tell him? Any way Alice pieced the words together, they always sounded either stupid or insane. Alice had not a single wish to sound stupid or insane – even though she had no chance of gaining his affections, she still did not want to sink his opinion of her even lower.

"...Because I am lonely," she eventually answered.

"But are not you having a party with such a large number of guests? To be sure, you must have plenty of friends for throwing a party of this magnitude," Johnny replied, looking a little confused as he did so.

Alice sighed, "My mother wants to find me a husband, I am getting near twenty and her health is poor and my father is long dead. I know I must have a husband before my mother dies, but it is so hard to not be repulsed by the idea of marriage for convenience – or by some of the men my mother deems eligible. Everything seems so... _thin _here – as if the world is a covering, stretched too tight over something... beautiful and... _valuable;_ but delicate, _fragile_. And I feel like I have caught the merest, most fleeting of glimpses into what lies beneath, and no matter how hard I try, I can never get through to the other side; but I have come too far to ever be able to turn back..." Alice trailed off, self-conscious of what she was saying and also of the state of her dress – even though her companion's clothes were even worse.

Johnny held out his hand, which Alice gratefully took to stand up. As she stood, she noticed him looking her over critically – not in a way that made Alice feel uncomfortable, but in a way which seemed to reveal that he was analysing his options and carefully trying to pick the right course of action to take, trying to predict how she would react to each course that presented itself to him. Johnny scanned the immediate area around them and backed away from the hustle and bustle of the party-ground; he held out a hand, beckoning her along – an invitation she had but a little will to resist.

Alice grabbed Johnny's hand – an action which seemed to carry all the weigh and solemnity of signing her life away to a stranger – which is exactly what she could have just done. Johnny smiled and turned to better navigate the overgrown wood and to faster pull Alice away from others. To Alice he seemed to be looking for something, but without having any idea as to where it was. He led her not a considerable distance before he stopped at the base of a tree, a big sturdy tree with low branches; he looked up with a small but excited smile on his face for only a moment, then turned to Alice with bright, wide eyes.

"How strong are your arms and legs?" he asked seemingly at random – Alice was still trying to work out why he had dragged her this way, what he was looking for and why he had stopped right here. What were his designs? She scrutinised his face until he repeated, "How strong are you arms and legs? It does not matter very much if they are not very, for I can help you whenever you can go no further without assistance."

After a brief, startled pause Alice then replied, "I am afraid that I cannot say. I do not suppose they are very strong, for I hardly use them – other than to hold my books or carry them on short walks through the garden," with still not an ounce of an idea of what Johnny was thinking of.

"Will you trust me to help you?" he asked intently. Johnny looked into Alice's eyes with a fierceness that greatly perturbed her; but it never once made her doubt her answer.

"Yes," declared Alice firmly – a solid measure more firmly than she actually felt inside – looking deep into Johnny's bright, sparkling eyes.

Johnny smiled a smile of such mischievousness; and got a mad glint in his eye that reminded Alice so much of the Mad Hatter that she caught her breath just by looking at him. "What are we waiting for, then?" he replied as if he were waiting for her to do the most obvious thing in the world.

Alice hesitated, "What am I to do?" she asked, wondering whether there was more madness in him than she fire realised, "Why have you stopped us here? Why do I need strong arms and legs?" she demanded, getting increasingly more confused with each question that tumbled out of her mouth.

Still smiling, but now more gently, Johnny interlaced his fingers and held them out from his body a little, "Stand on my hands and I will help you onto the first branch of this tree. You sound like someone who needs to see something breathtaking; and I can provide that by helping you climb to the top of this tree – _that_ will brighten the light in your eye, _that_ will warm the ice in your soul."

"Absolutely _not!_" Alice exclaimed, shocked and horrified. This was _not_ proper – this was scandalous! She wasn't even dressed properly! To be sure, he would notice that she had no corset on! Alice felt her cheeks colour and grabbed her skirt, wrapping it more firmly around her legs and taking a step back. It was a reflex – a response ingrained into her by her mother from the time she could speak – and later on she would look back in shame and wonder how she could ever have been so obnoxious and offensive.

Johnny straightened up and frowned, he put his fisted hands on his hips and looked at Alice in disapproval – although he put on a brave front, Alice could could see his hurt in the momentary hesitation between her words and his action – but the stance was almost an exact replica of one the Mad Hatter so often liked to use. It tore at Alice _outstandingly_ to both see the Mad Hatter come out so strongly in him and to have caused him unnecessary pain, however unconsciously it was done. Alice stepped back once more while letting go of her skirts and brought her hands up to cover her mouth as she stared at Johnny and waited for him to speak.

"You will never get your muchness back if you don't even _try_. How naughty! Now, all you have to do is step in my hands and pull yourself up to sit on the branch, it will hold your weight, and then I will be there to help you onto the next branch... do you not _want_ to get your muchness back?" Johnny asked, his demeanour growing defeated towards the end.

"My muchness? Whatever do you mean?" asked Alice. She had never heard the word before – _muchness_ – but it seemed to bring back memories of being poked without regard in the chest and she began, inexplicably, to feel more than slightly affronted.

"There's something missing in you, something in here," he said softly, his Scottish accent selecting that moment to emerge and caress the words as they floated from his lips, smoothly guiding them as they drifted to Alice's ears as put his hand over her heart. The two stayed in stillness, looking intently at one another as if searching for something, for a moment before Johnny's face softened and he retreated to his former position under the tree, "I promise to be perfectly gentlemanly."

Alice quietly chuckled to herself, "To be perfectly honest with you, I am rather tired of gentlemen at present – I would definitely prefer it if you were not the perfect gentleman at this moment." Alice surveyed Johnny's arms as he prepared to support her into the tree before deciding that he looked strong enough to hold her and cautiously placed a foot on his interlaced fingers.

"Place your hands on my shoulders," Johnny whispered, "So you don't loose your balance and fall off – yes, that's it – now on the top of my head so you can reach... are you ready?" Alice nodded and Johnny hoisted her up so she could easily pull herself to sit on the branch, "Now hold onto the trunk of the tree if you are truly nervous," – Alice immediately threw her arms around the tree trunk – "Now whatever you do, do _not_ look down; or let go of that tree." And after giving his gentle instruction, Johnny jumped to catch the branch – causing Alice to squeal at the vibrations – then, after a few swings to build up his momentum, swung himself up and straddled the branch right next to her.

Johnny briefly smiled at Alice in what he hoped was a reassuring way before scanning the surrounding maze of branches to find a suitable path for himself and Alice. He found a near, sturdy branch to hold onto and stood up. He walked along the branch a little way and peered up, his face betraying his concentration as his eyes darted from branch to branch, picking his and Alice's way, trying numerous different combinations before settling on the most likely and least dangerous one.

Climbing to near the top of the tree was a dreadfully awkward business. Alice was extremely wary of further dirtying her dress and it seemed to Johnny that she couldn't bear the thought of her hair becoming tangled and she could often only use one hand as the other was holding her skirts tight to her legs so that Johnny certainly would not be able to get a look up her dress, accident or no. And once, when Alice accidentally caught a glimpse of the ground below, she clung to the tree trunk, squeezing her eyes tight shut and started chanting pleas to the tree to not break and let her fall, which left Johnny with the difficult task of reasoning with her.

Alice gasped. The two were near the top of the tree – on the highest branch that would support their weight – and Alice was now looking over a spectacular view. Finally the light was back in her eyes, she felt lighter, more energetic and the difference was clearly visible, as Johnny observed. He studied her profile as she gazed with gloriously shinning eyes over the landscape and gushed animatedly over the shapes the hills and fields made and how breathtaking it all was.

"Will you introduce yourself to me – if you do not mind my entreaty that is?" Johnny asked when there was a break in the stream of chatter coming from Alice's mouth.

"Oh. I am Alice, Alice Kingsley."

"Well, it is extraordinarily decent to meet you, I am Jonathan Harrington at your service," he made an attempt at stately bow, but lost his balance almost fell out of the tree and had to quickly grab the branch by his shoulder to right himself, "But _you_ can call me Johnny," he added once he was again stable. Alice laughed and they spent much of the rest of the day in the tree; although she was secretly elated, no-one had ever allowed her to refer to them by a _nickname_ before.

The next day, Alice sat and watched as more last-minute preparations were made for the party that was to take place that night – the _engagement_ party. Alice began, as she thought more and more about it, to look upon the party with a new and rapidly growing dread. Now that Alice was conscious of the world around her, the prospect of being the wife of any of these gentlemen who were invited was now repulsive to her... but she also knew she couldn't be a burden to her mother any longer.

Alice wanted to sink back down into her cloud of ignorance – her own, personal cloud of bliss – but she could no longer find the way as if it was barred from her somehow by her abrupt return to the waking world. She desperately missed that thick, cloying fog. It was unfortunate that Johnny could not spend his time just with her today, Alice recognised that he had to earn a living for his family and if he spent another day without working, people would surely notice and he would pay for it.

Nevertheless, Alice endured the party – she _had_ to, it was simply not possible to back out now – and so prepared to let her mother down as gently as she possibly could. All of the eligible bachelors had been fine dancers, a lot of them had had sufficiently handsome faces and a portion of them had been extremely rich and well connected... but none of them were a possible choice for Alice. Her heart had already been captured, her soul had already been claimed and her affections had already been purchased. Alice was _inescapably_ unavailable to – and had precious little time for – everyone and anyone who was not Jonathan Harrington. Or Johnny, as he preferred to have her call him.

Her head scolded her and tried to persuade her to marry, why should she not marry someone else if she could not marry Johnny? But her heart would not let her even consider the idea, to her heart, marrying someone else was worse than blasphemy, it would be like consenting to spend eternity in the deepest, fieriest, most _revolting_ cavity hell could possibly offer. Needless to say, Alice did not make any false preference known, nor did she indicate that marriage would be a pleasing option in the least to her.

However, to allay that of her mother's worry which she could, Alice made more of an effort to be cheerful and she artfully devised ways in which she could escape her mother's scrutiny while fulfilling her own desires. Therefore, she went shopping for the cook each and every single time the excursion was necessary, using the journey – although she would scarcely care to admit it – to look for Johnny; the Mad Hatter stolen directly from her dreams and reincarnated in the waking world.

It was not until Alice's fourth visit to the market that she saw Johnny again. "Alice! You are here! This is a very decent surprise! I thought you would have been living with your new husband by now!" Johnny cried when he first laid eyes on her.

"Why ever would you think that? Those men are all perfectly horrible! And those that aren't are either too old or too young for my conscience or my heart to allow me to marry," Alice replied.

"Well, it _was_ an engagement party," Johnny mumbled, as he broke out of the hopeful stare he was sharing with Alice, he noticed other customers queueing up behind her, "What is it you came here to buy? Perhaps we can catch up while I work so as not to keep the rest of the customers waiting?"

Startled, Alice looked around and noticed ten others in the shop waiting to buy their things. Embarrassed, she turned back to Johnny before shyly nodding and reciting her shopping list. "Is business good?" she tentatively asked as Johnny measured out three pounds of apples, "Are you able to provide well enough for your family?"

Johnny was surprised by the question and even more so by the timidity and concern that rang through the melody of her voice; he stopped what he was doing to consider the question. "Well..." he began slowly, seriously... cautiously, "Considering that I have only to provide for me and my brother: William, I suspect I provide well enough for the both of us," he smiled and happily went back to serving Alice from behind the counter.

Alice need a moment – or several, as the case may be – to digest this new and unexpected revelation, which had previously caused her a great deal of agony and anxiety; and she was not even nearly finished digesting it before Johnny began to ask, "Would you like me to help you carry your things ma'am, or are your arms and legs strong enough from carrying all your books?" he finished by smirking at her, the sea in his eyes waving and breaking and foaming merrily as he smirked at her.

Alice grinned back and replied, "I am afraid I cannot say – but I do not suppose they are very, for my books are light and I carry them only fleeting distances."

Delighted that Alice had consented to play along, Johnny picked up all but the lightest bag and walked Alice home. On the way back to Alice's manor the pair conversed comfortably and familiarly the entire journey; they had many of the same opinions and desires and Alice could not help but fall a little more in love with him as the journey came to a close. She wondered a little apprehensively if Johnny felt the same way, if he _could_ feel the same way... but what would happen if he did? Would he propose? Alice placed the thoughts concerning Johnny and marriage in the back of her mind and came to her senses in time to bid him a polite but fond goodbye.

From then on, Alice went always back to the shop where Johnny worked; and always would he accompany her back to her home under the guise of helping her carry her shopping home. It was on these walks that the couple came to find much out about each other, Alice learnt that Johnny's mother had died giving birth to William and his father had died only two years previously, leaving him to care for his little brother of fifteen; Alice also learnt that Johnny was three and twenty, and that he had a younger sister of eighteen who was already respectfully and comfortably married to the blacksmith in town.

The weeks passed and Alice's countenance began to took healthier as well as her behaviour therefore easing her mother's worry some, but the simple fact was that she was rapidly nearing her twentieth birthday and she had still to marry. Alice's mother, curious and concerned, had spied her returning from town with a young man carrying her purchases and became disquieted, rightfully thinking that they were growing closer, each showing a marked preference for the other. But Alice was finally happy, her stubborn daughter had forced her to realise that rank played no part of importance in her daughter's life and maybe her daughter would be happier being married to a poor man...

Alice's mother detested the idea for herself, but could begin to understand that Alice was much much more like her father. She only hoped it was a good thing.

Yet the weeks went past with not even an indication of want of marriage or intention of proposal given by Johnny, a severe cause of vexation for both Alice and her mother, as it was evident to both that Alice held Johnny's affections and that he held hers. As time passed and Alice and Johnny's friendship grew Alice grew more agitated and impatient for Johnny to propose, to be sure an engagement was the only logical way forward.

...Ж...

"I wish you would propose to me, _that_ is what I wish. Pray, ask me to marry you and you will have the solution to my recent ill temper; for I am attached to you and I am sure I feel your attachment to me too!" Alice declared stiffly, angry molten magma rolling and boiling inside her. Johnny had been watching Alice's temper deteriorate for nigh on two weeks and had now – finally – inquired as to what was upsetting her, "So if you do not wish to marry me, then say so now, and I will be silenced forever and will bother you no more."

Johnny watched Alice stride determinedly away with a bemused look upon his face; he was unsure as to how he should react to her aggressiveness but eventually chose to buy her a ring and wait for her to come back to him once she was of a better temper. He felt a half smile find its way onto his face, he knew now that he would marry Alice – how could he not? Resistance was futile, and – if he was truly hones with himself – completely undesirable.

Johnny was now impatient to an almost frantic degree, and his humour grew worse by the day. It seemed that now Alice had confessed her feelings and desires, she was loath to give him easy access to them – and to her – again. For nearly four weeks Johnny was kept waiting, he had retrieved his mother's ring – a much cherished family heirloom – the day after his dispute with Alice and had kept it in his pocket since; he was waiting for Alice to show herself. Alice had gradually become more and more spirited as his acquaintanceship – he dared not call it a relationship – with Alice had lengthened and deepened.

Johnny also feared that going to Alice of his own volition could easily be premature and only succeed in decreasing the likelihood of her accepting his proposal. Johnny was now sure that, as long as Alice could endure the disapproval and censure of her mother and the town, then who was he to deny them the chance to get married and the chance to love each other. He felt sure that he must have been blessed; he certainly considered his fortunes many, as he fell in love while young and for a lady of high rank who had almost as much a distaste for social conventions as himself.

It was the fifth day of the third week when Alice finally re-entered his shop and it took him no time at all to abandon his station behind the counter and stride up to her and lead her out of the shop and around the building into a secluded garden. They were finally alone, together.

"Johnny? What is the meaning of all this?" Alice asked as she was dragged through a gate.

Johnny waited until they were standing in the middle of the garden, face to face, before answering, "I am attached to you – very strongly, I make no attempt to deny it – and now... seeing that your attachment to me is strong enough to overcome rank and station... I can finally ask: would you be my wife?"

Alice scrutinised his manner for long, weighted seconds before graciously and enthusiastically accepting his proposal. She may not have wanted to be an idle housewife as her mother was, but even Alice could not deny her heart's call for somebody to love, once again.

"Now we must gain my mother's blessing... I hope you are ready for this."


End file.
